The laird’s son, Fergus, was as handsome and charming as Agnes had heard over the years.It was to his credit that she could find naught about him that disappointed, and she wondered if he could truly see the future.Although he might provide an excellent opportunity for her ambitions, she was leery of his rumored talents.It might be wise to avoid him until she knew the extent of his abilities better.
They brought a whore with them, an infidel so shameless that she rode openly in the party, as if she were a lady.Her skin was so dark that it looked to be filthy, and Agnes thought that all the indication of her nature that was needed.
She peeled onions in the kitchen, weighing the merit of the boy Hamish, the squire of Laird Fergus who had journeyed all the way to Outremer and back.He was slightly younger than her fifteen years but so much more innocent in the ways of the world—and this, despite his travels!Agnes thought that there might be amusement in introducing him to the pleasures of the flesh.He might have secrets of his lord’s to share, as well.In fact, she was certain she could coax any tale from him, given his sidelong glances of interest, but that would cut both ways.
Hamish was likely incapable of keeping any secret, and Agnes could not afford such a liability.
What of the squires of the Templars?They looked as grim as their knights.
She was curious about the trunks of gifts brought for Lady Isobel and wondered if she might be able to assess their contents at some point.Perhaps theft would be the sum of the opportunities available to her.Laird Stewart would be curious about Laird Fergus’ generosity, she was certain.The hall was too busy for her to have a look as yet, and Agnes did not want to steal some trinket that would be missed too soon.Impatient with the prospects offered by the arriving company, Agnes watched them closely, intent upon gathering tidings for Laird Stewart.Her sole reward might lie there.
And that was when she noticed how the Templars watched Duncan.
Why?
Perhaps they distrusted him, but their expressions were not judgmental.The more she watched, the more Agnes wondered.Whywerethere two Templars in the party in the first place?If they always accompanied those who left their service for home, why had she never seen one before?Or heard of one venturing this far north and west before?Agnes was certain that at least one of the sons of the Campbell clan had taken the cross and returned from Outremer.Even the old laird himself had seemed to be surprised by their presence.
Could there be another reason for them to accompany the laird’s son?
Why did Duncan hold so fast to that one saddlebag?He did not look to be a man who had many worldly possessions, let alone those he would fear to see stolen in his companion’s home.
The Templars, too, kept an eye upon that saddlebag, as did the infidel whore.
Agnes wanted very much to see what was in that bag.
It was not long before Fergus announced to all that he would make a handfast with his whore.Agnes was not surprised.If he wanted to continue to savor the infidel’s charms, he would need a tale for his father.The old man had a firm moral code, and Agnes had been careful to let him believe that she shared his views.
She had thought all along that it might prove advantageous to do so, and on this day, it did.The steward came directly to her after visiting the solar with the couple.
“Do you know much of the tasks of a lady’s maid?”Iain asked, his intention clear to any who looked.
Agnes smiled.“I know how a woman dresses and how she washes,” she said, adopting a modest manner.“And I believe I know how to follow commands, sir.”
“Indeed, you do,” Iain acknowledged.“Lady Leila has need of a maid, and I think you will suit well.”
LadyLeila.Agnes hid her sneer with a docile smile.“Are you certain I can be spared in the kitchens, Iain?”she asked, feigning concern.“Perhaps I should begin on the morrow, after the feast.”
Xavier snorted and bent his attention upon his sauce when Iain glared at him.
“That is thoughtful of you, Agnes, but I am certain Xavier can manage without you.”
The cook harrumphed.“Take her,” he invited.“She does not contribute that much to the effort.Perhaps we will do better without her in the way.”
Iain’s lips thinned.“Lady Leila has need of you now, for the handfast will be before the evening meal.Come along, Agnes, and I will present you to her.”
“Of course.”Agnes turned her smile upon Xavier.“I am sorry, but the onions are done.”
“Half of them at best,” the cook noted with disapproval.“Do not fear that I will be challenged to replace one so lazy as you.Go!And welcome to it!”
Steward and cook glared at each other, at odds in their view of Agnes as in so many other things, and Agnes considered that this change in her situation could only be an improvement.
Perhaps the whore might teach her some exotic skills, courtesy of her experience in the Orient.Perhaps she might talk in her sleep.Surely, there could only be advantage in gaining access to the solar, even if it was simply in the quality of information she could provide to Laird Stewart.
Agnes had time to feel pride in her situation before they reached the solar.Iain rapped once on the door, which was partially closed.
That was interesting.The old man had always left it wide open.
The warrior, Duncan, opened the door wider, his manner unwelcoming.He no longer had his saddlebag, a fact Agnes would not have noticed if she had not been so curious about its contents.Agnes glanced past Duncan in time to see the whore put it in the treasury, then Laird Fergus closed and locked that door.He gave the key to the infidel, who put its cord around her neck.He then passed Agnes on his way out of the solar, Duncan fast behind him.
